A Puff of Dignity
by Dummy Perception
Summary: She sits by the window, and lights the last stick of cigarette from the box. Once it burns out, she should've by then decided if she must end, or keep on living the life she never wanted.
1. A Box

**A PUFF OF DIGNITY, VOCALOID FANFIC**

**Summary: She sits by the window, and lights the last stick of cigarette from the box. Once it burns out, she should've by then decided if she must end, or keep on living the life she never wanted.**

* * *

A failure.

One word that describes her entire being.

Many times she tried to keep it, at the same time wishing for it all to end. If it weren't for the people that have discouraged her to do so, she would've been gone a long time ago.

Every time she sees news on TV reporting about accidents and murder stories, she always imagines herself dying like them: accidentally without noticing it, or having other people do the

Job for her on their own will.

So she wouldn't havd to feel bad about not having to have said goodbye.

But no, she still had to deal with the luck of still being alive, physically.

Of course she's used to being alone, and boredom is a regular thing.

But right now-she has no idea what to do.

She gets out of bed, takes a shower, and eats breakfast.

She goes back to her room and sits by the window, reaching out to the pack of cigarettes on the table. She brings out the single stick left inside (just like herself, she bitterly thinks) and lights it.

Screw the fact that she just took a bath and brushed her teeth.

"After this, I'll know what to do," she thinks to herself.

The box of cigarettes was the only thing that's left of her brother.

Her brother -bless his soul - succumbed to losing his lungs to the cancer caused by the thing she's currently smoking. He was one of those people who stood by her, but the only thing she learned from him was to use the thing he left behind, which is a full, unopened box of his favorite brand.

Of course she hacked and coughed when she tried for the first time, and her throat hurt, but she got used to it.

After all, the pain she's been through was nothing compared to it.

And should she care about her throat when she can't even sing properly?

* * *

Well, a long time ago, she used to sing.

She learned to play the guitar at her early teenage years and even went to gigs at the bars, but she was always met with scorn and jeers and the repeating comments on her song covers a failed set of versions - in different ways said, but meaning the same.

She also wrote her own songs, but the management only allowed known song to be sung, and everytime she tried after her first song, she was always made to step out of the stage, by the audience or the management themselves.

The people there only wanted singers who dress like sluts and sing risquely.

And so, having had enough of it, she quit going to gigs and singing as well.

But to her luck, someone out of mischief took a video of one of her performances and uploaded it online ('Singer Fail' was the title) which garnered a variety of comments. Some said the same as the live audiences she had.

One day, there was a comment that said the opposite:

"It was okay, you morons. She plays the guitar well."

Said comment suffered the same fate as her singing did - it was showered with a lot of bashing, and soon enough the commenter's account was deleted.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED...


	2. A Whole

Ah - the guitar... she looks at the wall, just adjacent to the window. That was where the thing had contact as a whole, after which has crashed to pieces. That was probably the last time she was able to sing as well.  
She remembers that time - it was two nights after her having found out about the video. With such thing resulting to depression - as usual, she went home very drunk. She then decided that being 'very drunk' still cannot define a Haku, so she went to the cupboard to take out more of the cheaper alcohol she bought along with her groceries. And just so you know... she's more than capable of downing ten large bottles of Sake, despite having to deal with the almighty set of shit called a hangover.  
Back to having been drunk - she reminisced that time when she was singing at the bar, at the video.  
"How d'ell zus zet suck?!" She yelled to one in particular.  
And there was no one to answer, because she lived alone.  
Alone...  
"Lemme sho'ya, dammit - wherzzat- "  
She remembers - in a blur - having stumbled towards that cabinet - just opposite the window - and excavated her dusty guitar (not without scattering every piece of clothing across the room), and stumbled back again towards the window.  
And then she started to sing.  
She sang her favorite song, which was all but a bunch of sounds and slurred words.  
Her fingers stumbled through the chords, yet despite her intoxicated state, she played through the song decently.  
She sang about her brother.  
She sang about herself.  
She sang about the people that were once in her life.  
She sang about them walking away.  
And finally, she sang about her failures, her tormentors, and everyone that caused her pain.  
She remembers, upon finishing her songs, that she had been crying.  
Why was she singing again?  
She remembers looking down at her guitar and seeing its blurry shape - all dusty, yet still sounded good for her inebriated ears. Why...  
Why did her brother have to die?  
Why did they have to do that?  
Why why why-  
And all the pain turned to anger in the form of a smashed guitar - a gift to her by her brother on her eighteenth birthday.  
And she remembers herself having cried some more...  
...last night.


End file.
